Nice Legs, Shame About the Face

Rating: Null/10 (22 November 2002)

*Warning: Contains Spoilers.
Just seeing the Infected in the church sit up with a guttural exclamation of surprise to Jim's "Hello?" was the first intestinal wrench of what could have been a classic but was very much like the film it ripped off/ paid tribute to, Day of the Dead in that it was flawed and full of cavernous plot-related screw ups.
The opening scene of the Animal Liberation Front misguidedly releasing a rage-infected monkey that attacks and passes the disease to one of their own sets a watermark that sadly ebbs and rises as the film progresses.
Up until Selena and Mark come upon us the film is great and catches your breath from the opening scene, thru the car alarm to the petrol station explosion. Mark's "joke" then sees the movie lapse into soap opera-esque exposition and lame acting briefly shaken into life by Selena's brutal, cold-blooded murder of a possibly infected Mark.
While this was a true choker of a twist the fact that Selena is later seen burning through a supermarket on a trolley like a 10 year old doesn't tally.
Plot holes are myriad: where are the all the dead bodies; if England is under quarantine where did everyone go in one month; why don't the infected attack each other, why is it safe to move around by day etc, etc.
Most annoying of all is Selena's transmogrification from misanthropic self-preservationist to tactile vulnerable damsel in the space of 3 days without apparent reason.
Flashes of genius are there to be witnessed. The much ballyhooed desolated London is cinematically orgasmic, rats fleeing in terror from the Infected is bottled adrenaline, the soldier cowering in a cupboard from his Infected comrades grabs you by the testes and Jim gouging the eyes out of a really horrible squaddie that you just PRAYED was going to get what he deserved hits where it should but unfortunately there is equally as much bad as good.
The script really should have been polished up before being handed over. The plot holes are so numerous you could call it a cheese and the acting of Megan Burns is right out of a school nativity play.
The final sequence is so like Romero's Day of the Dead it should have been mentioned as "Based on..." in the credits. This isn't a bad thing though as the final scene in the mansion is the best the film has to offer. The site of an infected soldier staring in puzzlement at his own reflection is truly horrible and Christopher Eccleston's mournful "You killed my boys" is ironically touching.
Trainspotting has yet to be equalled I'm afraid.